I hate to repeat myself, so I'll keep this short. Late last night, Favre told the Packers (and this morning, they told the world) that after 17 seasons, he was retiring.
Excuse me, my heart is still a little busy breaking. The last of my childhood sports idols has hung 'em up.
Unarguably one of the greatest quarterbacks in NFL history, Favre leaves behind a young Packers team absolutely primed to do big time things (which they proved over and over again during the 2007 season). Without him...who knows? Their QB spot is a huge question mark.
I'm going to try not to focus on that right now. I'm going to focus instead on all of the things I love about Favre that I'm going to miss not getting to see...ever again. Like how much fun he always seemed to be having trudging back and forth across that field, even in snow and subzero temperatures. His love of the long ball (and how he could still throw it better than anyone else at 38). His flair for the dramatic and the unexpected. How infallible he is: playing through countless injuries, 275 consecutive starts, having that magical Monday Night Football game right after his father unexpectedly passed away. Favre is a steady, dependable constant: a rock of a player on whose shoulders Green Bay built their team. On top of all of that...he's actually a nice guy to boot. He has a presence, an intangible thing that he brings to the game of football. I'm going to miss it.
No. 4 retires, this blogger cries.
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